


Not Just a Game for Me

by heeroluva



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Current Events, Developing Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Future Fic, Homophobia, M/M, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:39:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Geno thought coming out together would make things easier. It didn't. </p><p>(Or PR decided that having Geno and Sidney come out together and fake date would be great publicity.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just a Game for Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Geno told Sasha about his crazy plan first because he knew if he didn’t, he’d never hear the end of it. That and Geno needed an insider’s perspective, someone who knew where he was coming from, someone who knew just how much he was risking. A part of him half hoped that Sasha would try to talk him out of it.

 _need to talk_ , Geno texted Sasha after their first preseason game against the Capitals.

 _sad we kicked your ass? come join us for drinks_ , was the text Geno got back.

 _not a public conversation, will be at your place_ , Geno replied, ignoring the chirp.

_((((((((((((((((((((((((((( and tell the guys what_

_hot date_

_funny, don’t drink all the vodka before I get there_

Geno let himself in with his key, only to be mobbed by Sasha’s pack of German Shepherds. Finally getting them calmed, he grabbed a bottle of Russian Standard from the cabinet and settled on the couch. The dogs laid close around him as though sensing his mood, Ovi even being brave enough to climb up on the couch beside him and press up against his side.

Twisting off the cap of the bottle, Geno took a swig, relishing the smooth burn. Tonight wasn’t a night for glasses. Ovi whined against his side, and Geno’s hand dropped to scratch absently at his ears. He momentarily considered turning on the TV, but knew that wouldn’t help him escape from his thoughts.

It didn’t take long for Sasha to appear, grabbing the bottle from Geno’s hand, frowning at it before taking a long drink himself. “It’s not good to drink alone, Zhenya. What is it that they call it here? Liquid courage? Need help finding a date?”

Geno snatched the bottle from his hand and took another drink. There was no point in dancing around the issues. Sasha should appreciate that. “I’m going to come out.”

Sasha who was in the middle of shooing Ovi off the couch (“you know better than that, you big mutt”), froze before sinking into couch beside Geno, eyes wide with disbelief.

The reaction wasn’t to any revelation about Geno’s sexuality Geno knew. Sasha had firsthand experience with that after all (after some youthful experimenting, Sasha had decided that he liked women best, and Geno found that he was an equal opportunity type of guy). No, the reaction had to do with Russia’s current political climate.

Geno loved his country, he really did, but it was far from ideal, and Putin was far from an ideal leader. Instead of being true to himself, Geno had done too much ass kissing in recent years in support of a regime that would condemn him. He’d done it to protect himself, to cover his pride, but more and more he felt that it wasn’t worth it. 

“I need more alcohol for this,” Sasha said, finally breaking the silence and taking the bottle from Geno again. After a long drink, he said, “You could lose everything,”

“I know,” Geno snapped back. “I love Russia, but Russia is not perfect. You think I haven’t thought about this? Wondered if they could find a way to revoke my citizenship, if I would be imprisoned if I went home, never allowed to leave again? If they will target my friends and family to get to me? If the media will turn on me, if the Pens will accept me? If it’s selfish to want to stop hiding?”

Sasha threw his arm around Geno’s shoulder. “No, Zhenya. It’s not selfish to want acceptance.” Sasha took another long drink, a pensive frown on his face, the look so out of place from the Sasha Geno knew. “I’ll back you. The Capitals will back you.”

Geno scoffed. “You may be captain, but you can’t speak for the whole team.”

Giving Geno a level stare, Sasha said carefully, “Yes, I can.”

Oh, Geno realized, there was a story there, one that wasn’t for him to hear.

Seeing Geno’s dawning understanding, Sasha nodded. “It won’t be easy. Many will not like it, but you must live your life and be happy. If it is what you truly want, do it.”

Geno snagged the bottle from Sasha again, taking another drink. “You were supposed to talk me out of this.”

Sasha laughed. “Who am I to deny someone their heart’s desire—except allowing the Penguins to win,” Sasha snarked with a crooked grin. “Now, enough worry. Come join the team for drinks.”

Geno knew that he should beg off, that he had a curfew and an early bus ride, but he had no desire to go back to his hotel right now. “Okay.”

Cheering, Sasha pulled him to his feet, and threw his arm around Geno’s shoulder. “I’ll call a cab.”

 

The world was decidedly off kilter when he got a text from Sidney. He’d had enough to drink that he had to squint at the screen in an attempt to get his brain to process the English letters. 

_Where are you? Johnston isn’t going to buy my excuses much longer_

Geno groaned because that was the last thing he needed. There was a lecture waiting for him, he knew, both for his performance tonight and now this.

_at bar with sasha, will get cab_

_Give me the address. I can come get you._

_no_ , Geno texted back, then added to clarify, _no trouble for me_

Geno didn’t need the guilt of Sidney being caught out after curfew before of him added to his own. 

_You’re only trouble when you take dumb penalties. Need to talk?_ was the near instant response from Sidney.

Geno let the chirp slide and hesitated a moment before replying. _later, maybe_

_Anytime_

Geno didn’t get the lecture he expected from Johnston, but he felt Sidney’s eyes on him the whole trip home.

 

Geno told Barry next, happy that the response was basically “If that’s what you really want, I’ll support you”. It was harder to tell Mario because he was _Mario_. It didn’t matter how many meals he shared with the older man, Geno was still a little starstruck, and the thought of his rejection filled him with nerves.

After putting it off for too many days, Geno finally texted him after returning home from practice. He hadn’t had the courage to just walk into Mario’s office.

_must talk_

It was direct and to the point, and Geno’s heart raced as the seconds ticked by after he sent it.

_Sure, will be in the office until three if you want to swing by_

The drive seemed to take forever, and at that point Geno wished that he’d gotten over his nerves and stayed after practice instead of going home, the suspense all but killing him.

Finally in Mario’s office, he fisted his hands nervously at his side, and greeted, “Sir.”

Mario raised a brow at the greeting, and gestured towards the chair. “Geno, please sit. You know there’s no need for such formalities between us.”

Geno really didn’t want to, but he did it anyway, sitting back straight, hands resting on his thighs.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Drawing a steadying breath, Geno said carefully, “Want to come out.”

“Come out, as in publicly reveal your sexuality?” Mario asked slowly.

“Yes,” Geno agreed with a nod. “Am bisexual.”

Mario began to laugh, a deep, full bodied sound.

Out of all the possible responses that Geno had thought of, this had not been one, and he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Finally regaining his composure, Mario apologized, “Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just this is the second time in as many days that someone has told me the same thing.”

Geno’s brows rose nearly to his hairline. “Who?”

“How about we set a meeting for tomorrow, say at noon, and you can talk to him then?”

Geno really didn’t want to wait, but he had a feeling that Mario wasn’t going to be swayed in this and nodded instead. “Okay, noon.”

“You have thought this through? The effect it could have on your relationship with Russia?”

Geno swallowed thickly, voice rough as he said, “Yes, I have thought about repercussions. Is a risk I must take.”

Mario looked as though he was going to say something to that but changed his mind and finally nodded. “I will support you in this. The Pens will support you in this. You won’t be alone, but it might not be easy.”

Blinking rapidly at the sudden wetness of his eyes, Geno said, “Thank you.”

“Now, I have some phone calls I need to make, some plans that need to be changed. Go home and relax.”

Geno nodded, said “Thank you,” again, and did just that (or tried to without much success).

 

Noon the next day couldn’t come fast enough, and Geno knocked on Mario’s door fifteen minutes early because he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Come in,” Mario called through the door.

Pushing open the door, Geno froze at the sight of Sidney sitting in one of the chairs across from Mario’s desk, wondering if he’d interrupted something. “Sorry, I come back later?” Geno asked uncertainly.

Mario smiled. “No, come sit. Sidney’s just early. Couldn’t wait either.”

Geno was half sitting in the chair beside Sidney before Mario’s words hit him, and he turned wide eyes to Sid. “Sid?” he questioned.

“Hey, Geno,” Sidney offered with a crooked smile.

“Sid,” Geno repeated again stupidly because out of all the possibilities, Sidney really hadn’t crossed Geno’s mind. Sidney was, well, _Sidney_.

“I think you broke him, Sid,” Mario said with a laugh.

“Why are you not surprised?” Geno finally managed to ask.

“During our Cup season, I walked in on you and a guy. You weren’t the only one who wasn’t being as discreet as they should have been, so I gave the team a talk the next day.”

Geno nodded, remembering that, but it hadn’t once crossed his mind that Sidney had been talking about him too. “I not know,” Geno said, and clarified, “about you. Never saw you.”

Sidney shrugged, looking vaguely embarrassed. “I was careful. No one but Jack knew.”

“And now you want world to know?” Geno asked.

“Not exactly, but I figured coming out on my own terms was better than being caught and having the media crucify me.”

“Not scared?”

“Terrified,” Sidney admitted.

“Me too.”

Mario who had been quiet up until then, finally spoke up. “I can’t promise miracles, but PR has been prepared for something like this for a long time. Are you both absolutely sure this is what you want? There is no going back from this. It won’t be easy, and the media won’t pull its punches. They’d been hoping for a story like this for years. ”

Sidney gave a definite, “Yes.”

Geno hesitated, and both other men looked at him. “Big risk for me.” He glanced sideways at Sid. “Bigger for me than Sid. Sidney not lose country, not lose home over this. I might. But I think of future, hope that I can help make one for kids. No more scared, not more hiding. Don’t want the world I grew up in. Yes, I am sure,” Geno said, voice sounding more determined than he felt. He knew he would likely lose friends over this, maybe even more family, but knowing didn’t make the threat of pain any less horrible.

Sidney’s hand landed on top of Geno’s clenched fist, giving it a squeeze, and glancing at him, Geno was greeting by the resolute look that Geno recognized from so many of Sidney’s captain speeches. _We’ll get through this. Together._ Sidney’s eyes said, and Geno could almost believe him.

“Good,” Mario said. “Geno, I know, it’s not the same, but you always have a home here with the Pens.”

“Thank you, sir,” Geno replied because it did mean a lot, but it didn’t stop the twisting in his gut at the thought of never being able to return to Russia.

After a pause, Mario continued, “So PR has a number of ideas on how to proceed, but they came up with a new one in the light of you both coming out together. Before you deny it outright, I’d like you to both think about it first.”

That didn’t sound ominous or anything, Geno thought.

“They want to market you as a couple.”

Yeah, Geno hadn’t expected that, and from Sidney’s startled intake, he hadn’t either.

“How exactly would that work?” Sidney asked.

“You’re both our biggest sellers and there has been talk of marketing you both together for years, but the timing was never right. This is a great opportunity.”

“And what would we have to do?”

“Nothing horrible, I promise. You’d just need to be seen in public together a few times. Dinner, movies. That type of thing. There would be a press release, of course, and we’d have to get your history straight so the press won’t catch you off guard.”

“How long?” Geno asked.

“How long?” Mario repeated, not understanding the question.

“How long we pretend? What happen after, when we date other people?”

“At least through the end of the season. After that, if you want to date other people, we’ll release a statement that you have separated, but ultimately decided you were better off as friends.”

“You really think people like this, me and Sid together?”

“There has been speculation for years. Sometimes it’s best to give the fans what they want. PR’s done the numbers. No matter how we present you both, we’re likely to lose a part of our fanbase over this. This is the route that is likely to bring the most new blood to us.”

“Okay,” Geno said, startling himself. “Okay, I do it.” Turning to Sid, Geno didn’t expect him to look so shocked. “Okay, Sid?” he asked.

“You sure?” Sidney finally asked.

“Why everyone ask that? I not say so if not sure.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, you do it?” Geno asked for clarification.

Sidney was clearly tense, but he nodded. “Yes, I’ll do it.” Then something shifted in him and smiling, Sidney added with air quotes, “I’ll fake date you.” 

Looking between them, Mario grinned and said, “Great. Now that that’s settled, let’s talk about some specifics.”

 

Nothing much changed in the following days as plans were made and set into motion, and Geno wasn’t certain why he’d expected things to.

Sidney and Geno got their facts straight, made a list of firsts (their first kiss was after the Cup game, but nothing came of it for a long time, neither of them willing to talk about it), of seconds (their second was when they were both out with injuries, Sidney with his concussion, Geno with his knee), even thirds (their third, and fourth, and those they stopped counting came after their first win when they were both healthy and playing again), had a whole timeline of events and seemingly unimportant information (what did it matter that Sid’s favorite color was blue and Geno’s was green?) that they had to come up with and memorize.

They hadn’t really set a date for telling the team, just planned it sometime before they made it all public. So when Sidney snagged Geno’s hand on the way back to the locker room after a grueling practice, Geno raised shocked eyes to his.

Sidney’s head was tilted in question, and mouth suddenly dry, Geno could do nothing but nod. The last ones into the locker room, they closed and locked the door behind them. The rest of the guys were in various states of undress, removing their gear, yet Geno and Sidney remained standing near the door, still hand in hand.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice.

In the middle of removing his pads, Flower glanced up at them curiously before his eyes drifted towards their joined hands. Eyes wide, Flower stared at them for a long moment before finally crowing, “Duper, you owe me $200!”

For a moment all eyes turned to Flower and Duper until they realized their attention was on Sid and Geno. Shocked silence met them, until most of the Pens who’d been with them for a while rushed forward and congratulated them. Geno and Sid both laughed at the amount of money changing hands, and Geno couldn’t help but wonder why so many of them thought they’d actually been a thing for so long.

 

Geno knew they not all revelations would go so well and put off making the phone calls to the friends he felt deserved to hear it directly from him until the day before it went public. Some went better than others.

Losing friends hurt, even knowing that they weren’t truly his friends if they wouldn’t stand by him in this. His parents knew, had known for years, and would support whatever decision he made regarding it. Denis hadn’t been so accepting.

Gonch’s reaction wasn’t the most horrible, but it hurt the most. Gonch had opened his home to Geno, welcomed him into his family when Geno was essentially alone in a strange country and barely spoke the language.

Geno’s words were met with a long silence, and finally Gonch said, “Some things are best kept private.” The click of being hung up on was worse than the words.

Wanting nothing more than to get drunk and to forget everything after the final phone call, not even Jeffrey’s normally comforting presence against Geno’s side helped.

Scrolling through his phone, seeing Sid’s name, Geno impulsively texted him. _movie at my place?_

There was a long minute before Sidney replied. _now?_

It was only then that Geno realized it was nearly midnight, and the nights they didn’t have a game Sidney was usually in bed by 10. _sorry, didnt know so late, go sleep_

_No, I’m up now. You need me to come over? What’s wrong?_

Geno hesitated, debating how much he wanted to share. Sidney was a friend, yes, and his captain, and he didn’t want to take advantage of him. Though wasn’t that part of the point now? Being together? Sharing things? He could start here. _made phone calls, not all go good ((((((((((_

_Can be there in 20?_

_no, rest, we have early press conference, just happy im not alone in this, we shock the world tomorrow, yes?_

_Yeah, G. We’ll shock them good. :D Get some sleep, I’ll pick you up at 6._

Geno slept better than he’d expected.

 

The press conference was both better and worse than Geno expected. There’d been speculation about a trade or forced retirement due to injury (Sidney’s time out due to his concussion was brought up again). The revelation when it finally came was met with shocked silence, then a flurry of camera flashes as Sid and Geno raised their joined hands. It was a picture that made headlines around the world.

Most of the questions were respectful, some were woefully ignorant, but there were a handful of comments that stung. It could have definitely gone worse.

Both Geno and Sid knew better than to look up the stories written about them, realizing that most of it was garbage, but that didn’t stop them today. Both of them pressed together on Geno’s couch, reading articles on Geno’s laptop, scrolling through page after page of stories, despite the fact that it was only hours after the fact.

Sid’s phone went crazy only minutes before Geno’s own, and unlike most of the texts that Sid got, Geno got a lot of hate. It didn’t take long before he finally turned it off, and threw it across the room with a scowl.

Rising to his feet, Geno stalked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. Taking a swig, he set it down by the sink, and placing his hands on the counter, dropped his head and closed his eyes, trying to steady his breathing and racing heart.

Geno jumped with Sidney touched his shoulder lightly.

“Let’s go dancing, tonight, you and me? Will be fun?”

The last was more question that statement, and Geno laughed unexpectedly, raising his eyes to meet Sidney’s, a hopeful smile on Sidney’s face. “Everyone know Sid don’t dance.”

Raising one shoulder in a shrug, Sidney said, “Don’t like dancing with women. Might be different with a guy? Wouldn’t hurt to try?”

“Sure, Sid. We can dance. I teach.”

 

Shortly after that, they went their separate ways until the evening. Geno through himself into his workout, using it as an excuse to avoid the internet. When he was finished and showered, Geno finally turned his phone back on, finding more support than he expected, and quite a few requests for interviews.

Eventually taking a nap, Geno found it later than he expected, almost time to pick Sidney up. Pulling on a white henley and battered jeans, he made the trip to Sid’s place, smiling when he found him waiting on the front stoop for him.

“Have place in mind?” Geno asked when Sidney climbed in beside him.

Sidney shook his head. “No, this is more your scene than mine. You pick this time.”

Something twisted in Geno’s gut at the phrase ‘this time’, implying that there would be a next time, and he wasn’t sure why that affected him so much. This was a role they had to play after all. Of course there would be a next time.

Geno drove towards Liberty Avenue, a rather infamous location that he’d never dared visit before, but now had no excuse not to.

Turing onto the street, Sid’s eyes went wide as he glanced around at the crowd already out. “Is this really…?”

Finding an empty spot, Geno pulled in. As they climbed out of the car, Geno decided it was best to just follow the crowd, knowing that it was likely were the party was at. He wasn’t disappointed, when they found themselves in front of a club, with a long line, the pounding music audible even through the closed doors. _Babylon_ the sign above it proclaimed.

Stopping by the bouncer, Geno went to pull out his wallet, but the man’s eyes went wide at the sight of them and waved them through despite the protests of the people in line.

Sidney seemed slightly overwhelmed at the sudden crush of bodies that they entered into, and Geno admitted it was a little much for him too, and carefully steered them both towards an empty spot at the bar.

Geno was slightly shocked when Sidney ordered.

“Four vodka shots, top shelf.”

Sidney went to pull out his card, but a voice stopped him. “No need for that.”

Turning Geno was met with a smiling, shirtless, blond twink, who turned to address the bartender.

“Tony, anything they want tonight is on the house.”

“Sure, Justin,” the bartender replied, setting the requested shots before them.

“Thanks, man,” Sidney said, offering his hand.

“Oh, no need to thank me. You just made Babylon the hottest thing in town tonight. My husband’s going to love it. Enjoy yourselves, boys,” he said with a wink before sinking back into the crowd.

Sid and Geno exchanged a look before downing their shots. Setting the empty glasses back down, Sidney took a moment to look around, then looked down at himself. “Why do I feel like I’m overdressed?”

“Dressed perfect, Sid. But could give them show? See that Sid is best, that Sid is mine,” Geno replied with a sharp grin and offered his hand. “Dance?”

When Sid placed his hand in Geno’s, Geno tugged him into the crowd on the dance floor. Finding an opening and stopping, Geno certainly didn’t expect the way that Sidney nearly plastered himself knee to chest against Geno. Sidney seemed uncertain what to do with his arms, so Geno took pity with them, and pulled, guiding them up around his neck. Sidney wasn’t short by any means, but the move seemed to highlight the few inches difference between them, and Geno found he liked it.

A line had been crossed, Geno realized, and he wasn’t sure what it meant.

“Teach me?” Sidney challenged as a new song came on.

The bass pounded through Geno and his hair stood on end. For a moment, he let his hands rest lightly on Sid’s hips before letting his hands drift down and cup Sidney’s ass and pull him impossibly closer. At Sidney’s startled gasp, Geno’s grin grew wider. He’d be a liar if he hadn’t thought about getting his hands on Sidney’s magnificent ass on more than one occasion, and now that he had the chance, Geno wasn’t going to pass it up. It would be easy to pretend that this was more than it was, having already gotten more intimate than he’d expected.

“Now we move,” Geno said, guiding Sidney’s movements, their bodies sliding against each other, grinding in a way that was almost sex on the dance floor, and Geno couldn’t help the way his body responded, noticing that Sidney was similarly affected.

“Someone’s taking pictures on the catwalk,” Sidney murmured in his ear as his head dropped forward.

Geno almost froze, wanting to turn and see, a small part of him wanting to beg off because the world knowing was one thing, but seeing was different.

“Let’s give them a show.” Sidney smiled and it was all teeth.

When Sidney pulled his head down, slanting his mouth over Geno’s, teeth nipping at Geno’s lip, Geno opened to it. It was one of the wettest, dirtiest kisses he’d ever had and it was with Sidney Crosby of all people. When Sidney’s leg slid between his, Geno groaned.

Someone near them suddenly said, “No fucking on the dance floor. Take it to the backroom, ladies.”

Sidney pulled back as though burned, eyes dark and hooded, face flushed, breathing harder than the situation called for. Geno knew that he was in a similar state.

“Drink?” Geno asked, gesturing towards the bar again.

“No,” Sidney said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sure? Haven’t been here long. We can give more show?” Geno said, grinning.

“They had enough of a show, I think,” Sid replied, voice carefully flat, the tone he used when talking to the media.

“Okay, okay. We go.” Geno frowned as Sidney followed him out, noting how tense he suddenly was. The bouncer gave them a look as they exited, and the line had gotten even longer, but Geno didn’t spare them more than a glance. Instead, he glanced worriedly at Sidney who walked silently beside him.

Climbing into the car, Geno pulled on his seatbelt but didn’t start the car. “You good?” Geno asked when Sidney slid in.

“Yeah,” Sidney instantly said, then added, “I don’t know, maybe. It just hit me that I was really doing this. Is dumb right? We had the press conference this morning. It’s everywhere. Thought I was ready, thought I could handle it, but maybe not?” Sidney turned sharp eyes to him. “Are you good?”

Geno shrugged. He liked dancing. Liked dancing with Sid. Unexpectedly liked kissing Sid. Liked not hiding even if it wasn’t real. Didn’t like the trepidation, the waiting, expecting everything to come crashing down around him at any moment. “No, but will be. Could be worse. Could be alone.”

Surprisingly, Sidney reached out for Geno’s hand, a smile on his face. “Yeah, glad I didn’t have to do this alone.”

“Wouldn’t be alone even if only you by self,” Geno denied. “Team support you. I support you.”

“Thanks, G,” Sidney said, letting go of Geno’s hand. “That reminds me, I need to talk to the team too, but I’ll tell you first. We have a game against the Islanders in two days. We got lucky with our team, but not all guys are going to be so supportive. They’re going to chirp us, _me_ , hard about this. Don’t get mad, don’t take stupid penalties or fight, especially not for _me_.”

Geno opened his mouth to disagree, but Sidney kept on going.

“You would, some of the others would. I _don’t_ need protecting, and we don’t need to give that impression. They’re going to target you and me. Some refs are going to make bad calls or ignore cheap shots, but we can’t get angry. We have to show the world that we’re as good as ever, that this can’t be used against us.”

“We best,” Geno agreed with a grin. “I show them we take no shit. Make clean hits. No penalties. Promise.”

“I look forward to it,” Sid said with a laugh. “You know what? I’m kind of hungry. We passed a diner down the street. Want to grab something?”

“I could eat,” Geno agreed.

 

Geno woke to even more text messages, but the one that caught his eye was the group message that Mario had sent him and Sidney. Opening it, Geno found a picture of him and Sid at the club from last night. There was no denying it was them and what they were doing, not that they’d had any plans to deny anything.

Accompanying it was a message. _When we talked about publicity this wasn’t quite what I had in mind, try to keep it a little more PG_

Sidney responded, _Sorry_.

_Not asking for an apology, just a little more discretion. You’re both grown men. Have fun, but be careful. Don’t want to see either of you hurt._

_more careful, promise_ , Geno replied.

Seeing he had a missed call from his parents, Geno checked the clock, calculated the time difference and gave them a call. It was one of the most awkward discussions he’d ever had with them. They’d known for a few years now, hadn’t exactly been happy or understood, but they hadn’t rejected him. They were still convinced that he was going to settle down with a nice Russian woman (which was a possibility, but not the _only_ possibility), so seeing pictures of him with another man was a bit of a shock to them.

Telling them the lies was easier than Geno had expected, and he didn’t feel as bad about it as he probably should have. They’d met Sidney many times before, but they talked about wanting to meet him again because it was different now, because they were together, because his mama wanted to know more about the man he’d fallen in love with. Geno sputtered at that because he hadn’t said anything about love, but she just hummed at him, the way that meant she thought she knew better him.

The oddity of his mama saying she’d visit him during the summer didn’t really hit Geno until later. He’d always spent the summer in Russia. Only half awake, the realization that there would likely not be a summer in Russia for him anytime soon tore a pained sound from him. He’d made his choice, for better or for worse, Russia was no longer his home. That didn’t make it any less painful. 

 

The game with the Islanders went both better and worse than expected. They won, a messy 2-1 win with Geno scoring the winning goal in overtime, but before then it had been brutal. It was an away game, and the stands weren’t full of the normal banners. Instead there were some that offered support and others that condemned them.

Most of the guys had taken Sidney’s words to heart, playing hard and clean, but Bortuzzo dropped his gloves against Martin only ten minutes into the first period. Bortuzzo might have ignored the dirty hit on Sidney that refs didn’t call it not been for Martins’ choice words about Sid putting out for the whole team. Tanger managed to hold him back before things got too messy, but it was enough to throw off everyone’s game. Geno missed two powerplay goals that should have been easy, and spent far too much time being on the defensive. Sid hadn’t fared much better.

The post game interviews were unexpectedly more about Sid and Geno’s sexuality and relationship than their gameplay except in the case where the questions related to their relationship and their sexuality _and_ the game. 

Not even their teammates could escape the questions.

“How has this revelation changed the team’s dynamics?” a reporter ask Duper, microphone shoved close to his face. 

Looking carefully bored, Duper replied, “Nothing has changed. We’re here to play hockey. Sid is the best Captain any of us could ask for, and I’m happy to play on either of their lines.”

The rest of the team responded similarly. 

The worst though were the questions asking about Russia, if he was defecting, and Geno was so upset that for the first time in a long time, he couldn’t find the words in English and pretty much walked away. He felt Sidney’s eyes on his back, knew that he should have done better, that he’d been prepared for this, but they just didn’t _understand_ , and he was upset because he couldn’t even explain it, not in Russian, let alone in English, not in a way that the reporters wouldn’t twist.

Geno didn’t feel like going out afterwards, begging off, saying that he was tired, which was true, but mostly he just wanted to be alone. Settling on his bed, he turned the lights low and pulled out his PSP. It wasn’t as fun playing by himself as it was against one of the other guys but it was something to pass the time until he could pass out, something to occupy his thoughts so he didn’t have to think.

A knock at the door made him scowl because he certainly hadn’t ordered room service and had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t in the mood for company. Opening the door, the last person he expected to see was Sidney with a bag of Chinese takeout.

“Dinner?” Sid asked, raising the bag as an offering.

Geno raised a brow, but opened the door wider, letting him in.

Sidney was unusually quiet as he set the food out on the small table. Despite the large amount of containers, they made quick work of it. When Geno was finished, he leaned back with a groan, knowing that he was likely going to regret it in the morning, but it tasted _so_ good. Sidney knew his weakness for crab rangoons, and these were great, the perfect mix of sweet and creamy.

“What is saying?” Geno asked. “Way to man’s heart is through stomach? Trying to seduce me?”

The pensive look that Sidney had worn since he entered the room fell away as he sputtered and kicked at Geno’s shin, who jerked back at the impact. “Next time I’ll just let you wallow.”

“Who wallow? Not me. Reporters stupid.”

“Maybe, but you gave them more of a story with your silence than if you’d answered.”

Geno stood angrily, the chair hitting the wall. “And tell them what? Tell them that I love Russia, but Russia not love me? Not want pity or be a sob story.”

“Then at least pretend to be happy,” Sidney retorted.

“Like you pretend at club?” Geno snapped back. “At least I’m not hiding.”

Sidney was on his feet now too, closing the distance between them, pushing at Geno. “No, only running,” Sidney said sharply.

It was a low blow, and Geno shoved back, not quite sure how they went from grappling to kissing.

“This is a bad idea,” Sidney said as he pulled back, though his body clearly had other ideas.

“Best idea,” Geno said trying to pull him close again because yeah, his body certainly thought it was a great idea too, not happy that they’d stopped.

“This isn’t real,” Sidney protested.

Geno shrugged. “Maybe begin with lie, but is real as we make. Can just be sex.” Geno tugged at Sidney’s lower lip with his teeth, grinning at his groan.

“Sex sounds pretty great right about now,” Sidney said against Geno’s lips, pushing him back towards the bed.

“Yeah?” Geno breathed.

“Oh yeah,” Sidney agreed as he pressed Geno down into the mattress.

Maybe it wasn’t the ideal start to a relationship and certainly didn’t solve his problems, but Geno had no complaints about his current position.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, this isn't longer. The idea turned out to be bigger than the amount of time I had to write, but I hope you enjoy!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Talking On Backchannels (The Screening the Goalie Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4182432) by [kinetikatrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinetikatrue/pseuds/kinetikatrue)




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